Poem: In Conclusion

The spirit hungers for the real and true,
And nothing else will satisfy it.
But the manifest real and true
depends on the unmanifest
alone for its existence.

The hunger for experience
consumes the world in fire and light
until it comes at last
to the ontological void of the infinite,
then it consumes itself .

In a conflagration of the actual,
Like a moth bursting into flame
As it plunges into a candle,
Or like a man who loses his self
As he thrusts deep into his lover’s body –

This is the edge of the real itself,
the point at which dissolution and creation,
being and nonbeing,
actual and potential,
merge and are one.